No One Lasts Forever
by SilverMoonLite
Summary: I am not very good with summaries but it informs you about the hardships in Africa. This particular story circles around the concept on how their sanitation isn't productive and how it kills. Its rating is just in case. One-Shot


She was just laying there, incredibly pale and weak. Beads of sweat fell down her delicate skin. She looked so very vulnerable and fragile giving the impression that a harsh movement on her defenseless body would cause her to shatter. She is horribly ill; in fact she is at the point of death.

That very thought had me crying uncontrollably. My best friend, my protector, my dear older sister, Kikyo, was nearing her end rapidly and I am watching it happen. Kaede has tried to get me to leave the room she is currently placed but failed multiple times. I refuse to leave her because I had promised my sister that I would be there for her like she has done for me. If that means painfully watching her die then so be it. My beloved older sister has held on for two days and I am confident that she is strong enough to reach the next.

I turned to change her now warm rag for a cooler one to place on her forehead. I gently placed it on her delicate skin, as I did so Kikyo's eyes fluttered open.

"Kagome," she croaked out in a hoarse voice that pained me.

"Shh," I cooed while helping Kikyo drink some water for her dried throat. "You should be resting, not forcing yourself to speak."

"I know," she replied weakly, "I only wanted to thank you for taking care of me, little sister."

Kikyo closed her eyes and as quickly as she woke she fell fast asleep. Her head lulled to one side and her breaths hitched in and out, making Kikyo look vulnerable once more.

"You're welcome, older sister," I whispered to her sleeping form. Tears threatened the corner of my eyes. I made my way over to the corner of the dimly lit room. I brought my knees to my chest and began to weep for the millionth time since Kikyo had grown ill.

My name is Kagome Higurashi and I am sixteen years old. My family and I live in Ethiopia located in Africa, a poor country. My sister may be dying of respiratory illness, something more deadly than AIDS. It is caused by cooking on primitive stoves. We do not have any electricity so we use something we called traditional biomass. Burning crop waste, wood, or dung is what we use to function our stoves. Apparently, burning these items in an open fire causes lung and heart disease as well as respiratory ailments.

I know all of this information because a speaker from the United Nation spoke to us about their goals. Their goals to fight this extreme poverty is to work hard in bringing electricity and modern safe-cooking technology to us "energy-poor" people around the globe. They are trying to do all this without breaking the banks of nations or worsening the climate change problem. The United Nation calls providing modern energy to the poor, the Millennium Development Goals program. This could require an annual investment of about forty-one billion dollars per year over the next five years, or six hundredth percent of global GDP. The speaker's words not my own. He also spoke some about Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon who believes that we should not only have access to modern technology but proper health clinics and schools. Provide pumping capacity for clean water and sanitation, and delivery of food. I actually don't mind this idea but we must wait for the goal of universal world access until 2030.

Of course, the United Nation is still having trouble gaining the financial commitments in order to achieve the Millennium Development Goals on poverty without adding a new challenge on energy. They have called for the nations to give seventy cents of every one-hundred dollar of their economic activity to fight poverty. Only five European countries meet this level of giving, and the United States, which never agreed to the target, only spends twenty cents per one-hundred dollar of GDP.

Their financial global energy solution for the poor is to organize a non-profit organization that works with residents from the poorest neighborhoods in Cairo, Egypt, and other African countries. This organization would install rooftop solar water heaters and hone-scale biofuel systems. But others argue that the money should be focused on small energy and cooking projects and make that available to people in poor communities.

I personally think that they are just making things way more complicated than they already are and what happens, well it just happens. To start with something simple and work up to more complex ideas, but of course the United Nation has to start big.

I looked over at my sister to find that her breathing had become labored. Hurriedly, I made my way towards her and placed my hand upon her forehead, she was burning. I yelled for Kaede and they burst through the door quickly making their way over. I got out of their way so they could tend to Kikyo.

I went back to the corner and tried to watch Kaede through blurry eyes. I silently cried and painfully waited for what I knew was about to happen. There was no way to save Kikyo no matter how hard we tried. We could help her survive another day but that would only be painful for her and harder for us to let go.

I closed my eyes tight and reminisced the joyous times I had with Kikyo. If I had to let my dear sister go then I would release her soul with the knowledge that my memories keep her alive in my heart.

I did not hear Kaede make her way over, but I did feel her consoling hands on my shaking shoulder. I looked up at her with my tear streaked face. Kaede looked at me with the same expression on her face, sorrow and sympathy. I held her tightly in my arms and knew that I did the right thing in letting Kikyo go, but it did not make the pain any less painful.

I will miss her immensely and the pain will subside over time, but my love for her will remain unchanged. Kikyo was gone and I would have to enjoy life not only for myself but for her as well. But for now I will painfully mourn the death of my only sister.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this short story, it mostly has facts because I wanted to inform the reader on the recent action forming to help the people in Africa. I do have a heart-a big one at that- and seeing all those people without much pulls at my heart strings. So I am hoping that this story will at least let you give your hearts to those people to show them that someone cares, or help them somehow. What I am really hoping for you to get out of this story is some knowledge on recent activity ideas to help African and-if you did not care before-to have some sympathy for them now. I hope you liked the story, please comment.**


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